Taking Nothing On Faith
by Berry Smoothie
Summary: Paul, Embry and Seth imprint on the traveling friends Harper, Monica and Lucy. Not a good move, as it turns out: each girl has her own motive for rejecting the imprint, and they aren't going to let their minds be easily changed.
1. Introducing: Us

_**Hey guys!**_

_**Welcome to my new story. It's about Lucy Smith, Harper Desun and Monica Freestone (see my profile for links to pictures of the girls), who go to Monica's grandma in Forks for two weeks. They're imprinted on by Paul, Embry and Seth, but don't seem like the perfect matches for them at all.**_

_**Anyway, nothing seems to go right, and one of the girls flat-out resists the imprint. Enjoy, favorite and review.**_

_**Love, Me**_

Lucy's POV

The three of us are best friends. We have the kind of bond that most people can only dream about – the kind you see so often in movies. Our friendship isn't flawless, but then again, nothing's ever perfect.

I'm Lucy Smith. I know, I know, my name is utterly plain and unoriginal, but don't you ever insult it because I will find out and I will hunt you down. Aside from a few flaws, I'm a fairly normal person.

My best friends are Harper Desun and Monica Freestone.

Harper is tall and slender, with very black hair (there's not a hint of blue to be seen). She's really, really smart. Honestly, Harper's a genius with pretty much only A's on her report card. Anyway, she is really focused on getting good grades because her future job is very important to her. She wants to be a forensic scientist, which I think is pretty damned cool.

Harper completely loves big cities. All three of us do, but Harper the most, and aside from that, she is a passionate hater of small towns. Why, you ask? Well, like I said, her career is extremely important to her and small towns don't offer that much study or job potential to someone who is interested in forensics. So I can understand that. Honestly, Harper won't let anything get in the way of her big dream. She's stubborn.

Monica is also really stubborn. Our parents, you see, raised us to be independent and strong-willed, and I think the stubbornness comes as a side effect of that. But no worries, we were also taught to be polite, so you can survive around us.

But, like I said, we're stubborn, especially Monica. Her mom's in politics, which I think makes it more extreme. Her parents earn a considerable amount of money, but she's not a stuck-up "rich girl" like you might be thinking.

Monica's a responsible, cautious yet fun-loving person. Her judgment is good and both Harper and I often go to her for advice. The last word I would use to describe her is probably shy. If she doesn't like something, she'll let you know about it fast.

Okay. So now that I've told you a little bit about my two best friends, I think it's time you heard about me.

I am Lucy Smith. One of the things you should know about me is that I'm very independent. I don't need a guy at my side to feel strong (at the moment, I don't want one either). Damn, I don't know if I'll ever get married. Maybe, but only a bit later in life. I'd never marry young.

The one other important thing about me is that I'm a somewhat-shopaholic. I love shopping and I will openly admit that, but my weakness isn't clothing or shoes.

It's the drugstore.

Makeup, razors, deodorant, shampoo, facial masks, nail polish, etc, etc, etc. I swear, I could spend hours just looking at all of the items they offer at those stores. I think the real problem is that I love trying products out. I'll see something and I'll just _have_ to buy it and see if it's good or not.

Besides, almost everything costs less than $5.

As you can probably imagine, I own very many drugstore items. What's more, I will hurt you if you use them (without asking, that is). Don't ever just assume that you can borrow my bobby pins since you forgot yours. You can't. Don't do it.

Harper and Monica are similar in that way. Harper doesn't like having her stuff messed with or her products emptied, and Monica calls it an evasion of personal space.

So much for the introductions.

Oh, except for a few things. We're all 16. Monica's the best driver and the only one with a decent car. We go to the same school, are in the same grade but unfortunately don't have many classes together. Anyway, it's summer, and we're all dying to get away.

Our parents are letting us drive to Monica's grandma, who lives only a few hours away in a small town called Forks. We're going to stay for 4 weeks. It's really exciting because this is our first vacation together.

Harper is trying to ignore the fact that Forks isn't a big city, but instead a littler place.

I'm attempting to deal with the fact that the drugstore (should they have one) will not be very large.

Monica is ignoring all of the potential danger, but is still packing an extra-large emergency kit.

I hope we won't need it.

Everything's already packed. We're leaving in less than an hour. All three of us are completely ecstatic, but worried, nervous and a little bit scared, too.

This will be the best month of our lives.


	2. Welcome Home

_**Disclaimer: Not mine.**_

_**Sorry for the super-long wait, you guys. The Leah thing hasn't been updated in forever, either, but I'm working on it, I honestly am.**_

_**The culprit is NCIS. I love that show to death, especially Tiva. If you don't know it, watch it. Go on, don't be shy. It's awesome, I promise you. Anyway, my addiction is taking up a lot of my time. I'm not writing an NCIS fanfic, before you ask, because I could never portray the characters correctly, and I can hardly just make up a few characters like I'm doing in this story.**_

_**Anyway, I'm not giving anything up. Reviews make me happy, so go ahead and leave one. It doesn't matter if it's short, as long as it's there it puts a smile on my face. Love, me.**_

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><p>Harper's POV<p>

_Do you know your enemy? Do you know your enemy? Well gotta know your enemy, wah hey._

_Do you know your enemy? Do you know your enemy? Well gotta know your enemy, wah hey._

I listened to the catchy Green Day song coming from my I-Pod as I sang along in my mind. To my right, Lucy was sleeping, and in front of me Monica's concentration was solely on the road in front of her as she drove. It always comforted me how well she could drive; with Lucy behind the wheel I'm always afraid of distracting her and causing a crash.

Admittedly, I'm not the greatest driver myself. But hey – all of those dents on my car are not of my own making. My older brother, Shawn had the car before me. I got it in an okay-but-not-exactly-wonderful state.

In the few months I've had it, I've contributed a long scratch to the side. And a soap stain on the front seat (long story short: I had bought soap, amongst other things before driving home one day. The soap dispenser broke (still don't know how) and it turns out that creamy, white soap leaves dark stains).

You're probably imagining a really old, dirty, seats-are-torn car right now. It's actually a newer design that my parents bought maybe 8 years ago. Then sometime around 3 years ago they decided it wasn't ideal for them, and bought something else. Shawn was 17 at the time, and he got it. It's been my awesome car for not much longer than a few months. Shawn has moved out and I barely see him. I miss the guy. He was a great brother.

What am I saying here? Honestly, I'm acting like he's dead, with the '_was_ a great brother' thing. He's not. Shawn is very much alive, and also very much across the country in college. He wants to be a doctor.

But whatever. Right now, we're driving to Monica's grandma in Forks, which is a painfully small town not that far away from the one we live in. Our first vacation together, alone…this is pretty damn exciting.

I turned off my I-Pod and packed it away. "Monica?" I asked in a stage whisper.

"Yeah?" she replied in a normal but slightly hushed voice, carefully eyeing Lucy for a second.

"Don't wanna sound annoying but…when are we going to be there?" I questioned.

She laughed. "You know, I really feel like a young mom driving her kids out to Grandma's here. But it's fun. I think we should be there in about half an hour."

"I wonder when we're going to start seeing signs," I said. "Okay, stupid question. Don't answer."

"I keep on asking myself what we're going to _do_ the whole time," said Monica, changing the subject. "I mean, is there a pool? A mall?"

"I know. But I mean, come on, even the littlest town has a decent pool _somewhere_. And besides, we – screw that, _you_ – have a car, giving us the opportunity to drive down to Port Angeles for a day of shopping and a trip to the movies or something."

"I can see us going there every day," she said.

"Maybe we'll meet somebody in Forks," I replied.

"Somebody…" she said with a grin and waggled her eyebrows, watching me in the rearview mirror. "The way you said that makes it sound like you plan on it being something more than just a harmless little flirting."

"Hell, no," I said with a laugh. "Don't feel like getting serious with somebody that a) I'll have to tragically break up with before I leave and b) lives in a place that I won't study close to, meaning that a long-distance relationship is screwed anyway."

"Long distance sucks," stated Monica.

"I know. Well, I'm putting love on the back burner anyway, so whatever. But how about you? You looking for love?"

She laughed a little. "Yeah, I guess. I mean, I'm not really looking, but if it just so happens…hell, why not? Okay, so Forks isn't exactly the place where I hope to meet a dream guy. Actually – wouldn't that be horrible, finding the perfect boy and then you have to leave? I hope it doesn't happen to me."

I nodded. "So do I. Call me cold and heartless, but my job is going to be my first priority after school and all that. A husband and kids is more for when I'm thirty."

"But remember that you don't have forever. I mean, your biological clock will be ticking."

"Yeah. What about you, Moni? Kids part of the plan?" I asked.

She grinned. "Yeah. You know how much I love babies, and toddlers, and just imagine it. Imagine us in twenty years – where will you be? And me, and Lucy… There are so many possibilities."

I thought about the said possibilities for awhile, watching trees and other cars flash by out the window, listening to a different song now. The pretty lyrics floated through my mind, and for a moment or two I saw my entire life from a different perspective: that of an outsider, a third party just observing.

I knew where I was: in high school, far from finished with my education there.

I knew where I was going: college, then diving straight into the job life. Maybe I'll do a year in a foreign country first, or go to Africa and volunteer for a few months. See a little bit more of this Earth. But I'll decide that when I'm finished with college.

After all, I'm only 16 so far. I've got time to think about stuff like that.

* * *

><p>Lucy didn't wake up until we were all parked in front of Monica's grandma's house in Forks. It was this cute little light-blue place, surrounded by trees and with a little wraparound porch. We all hopped out of the car and wrenched our suitcases from the trunk. The weather was crappy, to put it mildly; rain poured down from the sky like there was no tomorrow and within seconds I was completely soaked.<p>

The grandma opened the door and ushered us in. I've got to say, I was completely surprised. I had been expecting…I don't know what, but certainly not an old lady in a black power suit, with short blonde hair, looking more business-y than grandmother-ish.

Well, whatever. Glad to be out of the downpour, I took off my shoes and surveyed the house. Lucy was looking out the window with a somewhat doubtful facial expression. Monica's grandma must have noticed because she laughed and exclaimed, "Oh, yes, honey, it really does rain the whole day long 'round here." She sounded nice enough.

Then she gave us the once-over. "My, my, my, girls, look at you, all tired from the long drive and drenched with the rain. It's always so shocking, darlings, for newcomers here to this quaint little town, not at all used to the constant wet. Even when it's not raining!"

Okay, another thing to add to the list of the bad things about Forks: constant wet. When you considered the fact that this place was also tiny, it sounded like a bad place to live. Although she had said 'quaint'.

Right now she was giving her granddaughter a big hug. Monica was hugging back. They seemed to like each other enough. I'm always kind of wary of stuff like that because I don't get along to well with my aunt or her kids. As a matter of fact, I can't stand them.

"I haven't even introduced myself properly!" she exclaimed. "You can call me Cia **(pronounced see-yah)**. That's what my friends have been calling me my whole dear life long. To strangers I'm Marcia Freestone. I'm sure Monica here has told you all about the family tradition we've got going on here."

Monica had really told us all about it. Apparently almost all of the women in her family had names starting with M: Marcia, her grandma; Mary, her aunt and mother's sister; Madeline, her grandmother's sister; Maya, Morgan, Megan, Martina, Melinda, on and on and on. And, of course, herself, Monica.

Lucy thinks it's wonderful. Monica thinks it's crazy. I'm undecided.

* * *

><p>That evening, we cooked a spaghetti dinner. Apparently, Cia really likes whole-grain noodles. I've got to admit, they were really good. I guess they're healthier, too. I never eat my pasta with sauce, but Lucy said it was delicious. However, Cia admitted that pasta is one of the only things she can manage. Sure, she tries recipes every now and then, but that fails about half of the time. Cia's a really funny person – the two weeks here should go wonderfully.<p>

The sleeping arrangements are just fine, too. There are three beds up in Cia's guest bedroom. Monica explained that she occasionally does something along the lines of a bed and breakfast arrangement here, so she needs those three beds. Actually, she has two more, but those are stuffed into a smaller, less comfortable room.

We were all dead tired that night. I thought it was really funny that Lucy needed sleep, too, since she had napped pretty much the whole way here.

The vast expanse of two weeks' worth of free time was stretched out in front of us. This will be damn awesome.

**I'm sorry that there was so little Lucy in this chapter. Don't worry, I'll make up for it in the next ones.**


	3. Damn And Damn Again

_**Okay, guys, I'm back with the third chapter of Taking Nothing On Faith, and in this chapter stuff actually happens. I know. I'm thrilled too.**_

_**Anyway, Twilight doesn't belong to me. I don't think that revelation shocked anybody.**_

_**Also, I don't have anything to do with Lean Cuisine. I don't even eat the stuff. Do you? Is it good? I'm kind of interested in your reviews of Lean Cuisine meals because I might add something involving the girls trying it one evening because they're hungry, blah blah blah, anyway, please feel free to say anything about any specific Lean Cuisine dish. I'd prefer to base my story on your input than to trust the opinions that can be found online. Consider it your way of contributing to the plot.**_

_**Enjoy! With love, me.**_

_**P.S. This chapter is a whole lot longer than all of the other ones. Just so you know **_

Lucy and Harper, being the late-sleepers they are, didn't stir at all when I got up the next morning. It was… oh, I don't really know, maybe 7 am? God, this sounds like a witness testimony or something.

Anyway, it was kind of early for a no-school day and all, but I always, always, rise early. Without fail. Lucy is kind of creeped out by it.

I hopped under the shower for 30 minutes of pure relaxation, except for the shampoo that ended up burning in my eyes. When I got out, my right eye was all red and horrible-looking.

Harper started moving around a bit when I went back to the guest bedroom to get dressed. I sat down on my bed and looked at her for a moment while putting on my socks.

"What time is it?" she mumbled, eyes still closed.

"I'm not really sure," I whispered, glancing at the still-sleeping Lucy in the third bed. "Maybe 7:30? 7:45?"

Harper yawned and sat up. "I'm hungry," she said, her voice nearly emotionless, tired eyes staring in to mine. With that, she got up and headed to the bathroom. I moved on to the second sock, and then headed downstairs to the kitchen.

The fridge and cupboards were filled with all the normal things like butter, sugar, eggs, nuts, milk, nothing special. I think there were apples, too. No other fruits. No other vegetables. Then again, there was this huge stock of granola in the cupboard above the dishwasher.

I'm not exactly a fan of granola. Maybe there was bread in the drawers…? Possibly? Okay, I know that nobody puts food in drawers, but come on. Just eggs is not breakfast. I pulled random drawers open and was not exactly shocked at what I found: spoons, bowls, plates, forks, knives, a weird silver platter type thing… no bread.

What a shocker.

But honestly, what was I supposed to do? I don't know how pancakes or waffles are made! I'll be damned if I have to find some supermarket this early in the morning just so I don't starve. Okay, better solution: ask the person who lives here. When does Cia actually get up?

Oh. Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh… crap. My grandma is visiting a friend of hers today, and she left pretty early because a) the car ride is about 45 minutes, b) she wants to spend as much time with her friend as possible and c) she gets up early anyway. Originally Cia had wanted to cancel, but we all thought she should go ahead. We can take care of ourselves anyway.

Damn it. We don't even know where the supermarket is! So much for being able to take care of ourselves. Too bad it's not even 8 am yet, otherwise we could ask the neighbors…

Okay, Monica Freestone. _Think._ Where else could food possibly be?

And then it hit me: the freezer! Okay, maybe I'm an idiot for not thinking of that sooner. I quickly opened the freezer door, only to find a ton of neatly stacked boxes. What the…? Curious, I pulled one out and examined the label. Lean Cuisine. Huh.

A more thorough search proved that yes, the entire freezer was stacked full of frozen diet food to be heated in the microwave. Dear Lord. And I always I knew everything there was to know about Grandma.

Okay, so I was aware of the fact that cooking is not her area of expertise, as she had even openly said yesterday during dinner, and maybe I should have asked myself what she actually _does_ eat, but still.

Well, whatever. There were other problems I very much needed to attend to, the first being the now famous where-to-get-food-from issue. Does Lean Cuisine make frozen breakfasts? I shrugged and got down to business removing boxes from the packed freezer.

Mushroom Tortellini…that sounded gross, although the picture on the front was somewhat appealing.

Asiago Cheese Tortellini… what's asiago anyway? And why all of the tortellini?

Hmm… Ginger Garlic Stir Fry with Chicken sounded good, but was not a breakfast food. Neither was the Butternut Squash Ravioli, nor the Salmon with Basil. We also had Chicken Carbonara, which sounded elegant and fancy, and Beef Chow Fun, which sounded like a kiddie meal. The picture on the box was funky, though.

How much of this crap did Cia eat? And why did she have so much in her freezer? I guess there was a sale one day and she thought she'd save some money. I wasn't really convinced that the stuff would taste good.

On with the search. Parmesan Crusted Fish, Sun Dried Tomato Pesto Chicken, Classic Five Cheese Lasagna, Santa-Fe Style Rice and Beans (whatever Santa-Fey style was), Orange Peel Chicken (damn, there was an awful lot of chicken here)…

I'll be damned. I just methodically searched through a freezer absolutely overloaded with diet microwave meals, only to find that there IS NO BREAKFAST FOOD. What were these Lean Cuisine folks thinking?

Somebody cleared their throat behind me. That somebody proved to be Harper, who was watching me with an amused facial expression. Well, at least somebody was happy. "I can't find anything to eat for breakfast," I said in a dull voice to explain exactly why I was sitting cross-legged in my Grandma's kitchen, surrounded by many packages of Lean Cuisine with an empty and open freezer in front of me.

Right then Lucy walked in. She looked a lot more alive than I felt, and started laughing when she saw me. Soon, Harper joined in and even I had to grin at the humor of the situation. "We should take a picture," laughed Harper.

"Ah, the memories," responded Lucy. After a short while, the laughter died out and I got serious.

"There is absolutely nothing in here that we can eat. Also, my Grandma eats unholy amounts of this microwave food. She wasn't lying when she said she can't cook yesterday. Anybody have ideas for solving this crisis?"

I got solemn looks. "Let's just put the crap back in the freezer," suggested Harper. Which we did.

"Okay, step one accomplished," said Lucy, who liked to state the obvious. It was actually kind of charming. "Now what?"

We looked at each other for a moment or two before Lucy spoke again. "I think we should go see some of La Push today. We'll take the car, obviously. On our way to the reservation we're bound to pass some store. Forks is not that small."

"Good idea. Let's change," Harper consulted her watch, "_now_ so that we don't have to starve for much longer."

"We should probably stop at a grocery store tomorrow," I commented lightly as we got dressed. "Not only is it necessary if we want to survive here, but I feel like we should be helping more anyway."

"Agreed," said Harper and Lucy. Lucy was wearing a striped one-shoulder top with ruffles and black jeans **(picture on profile)**, Harper went for something sophisticated with a dark red, off-the-shoulder tunic, black leggings and gray boots **(again, pic on profile)**, while I did the whole casual-yet-chic thing with an oversized, black and white striped sweater and light rinse denim jeans **(once again, pic on profile)**. We looked awesome, if I do say so myself.

We all piled in my car, and I drove, which is always the case when we're all taking my car. It's a kind of unspoken rule, I guess. Harper found a cute little bakery on the side of the street and I illegally parked in front of it while Lucy and Harper ran in to buy food. I glanced at the clock on the dashboard: 8:37. Some might consider that a bit early for a tour of the nearby Indian reservation, but why not? We were awake, we had energy, and we had nothing to do at home.

So when Harper and Lucy came back bearing breakfast, we quickly ate outside of the car (I hate crumbs on the seats) and then hopped back in for the short ride to La Push.

Well. Admittedly, I imagined the drive going a bit smoother. I always thought there was just _one road_ that led you to the _right place_. Which was true. There was indeed only one street, but the problem was the right place thing.

"Where the hell are we?" I asked no one in particular as I wound around yet another curve, onto yet another road.

"The articles online said the beach was pretty, and the cliffs were nice. They did not say that getting to said beaches and cliffs was so damn hard!" huffed Lucy.

Harper was also annoyed. "I was under the impression they had actual _signs_ here saying 'Drive This Way' or something. We're in a neighborhood of some kind here," she stated in a frustrated tone.

"But the houses are so tiny, and so incredibly uniform…I could never live here," said Lucy, looking around.

"The houses really are small," I contributed, trying to pay attention to where I was going and _find the damn way to the actual sights here_.

"Maybe we should ask somebody who lives here for directions," offered Harper.

"Yeah. God, we suck. We can't even find our way in a tiny place like this!" laughed Lucy. Harper and I had to laugh too.

"Let's try this place," I said, nodding towards the closest little house.

"It looks so…uninhabited," wondered Harper.

"All of them do," countered Lucy. "Well, what the hell. Let's try it."

I just parked on the side of the road, next to this small-ish shed. I pretty much had it when we all heard this crash coming from the shed area. "Oh shit," I said in a half-whisper.

Harper had twitched together during the crash, and now she straightened up. "What _was_ that? I swear I saw absolutely nothing there, and now…"

"It's not your fault, Monica," said Lucy, trying to console me. Sweet of her, and I've got to say, I kind of needed it. What kind of driver was I, anyway?

"Of course it isn't!" exclaimed Harper angrily. "Don't beat yourself up over it," she then said, her tone much softer now.

"Let's look at the damage," I said in a kind of shaky voice. I inhaled sharply when I got out of the car and saw it: I had driven straight into a kind of fenced-off little area filled with three or four moving boxes. Well, it had been packed with them. Now the boxes lay toppled across the lawn and the fence was kind of dead.

"There's no damage to the car," Harper said in a strong, confident voice. That gave me the push I needed to get all reasonable again.

"We need to, oh, forget it, _I_ need to apologize to the person who lives here for running his boxes over and killing the fence," I stated strongly.

"We're with you, Monica. We're not leaving you alone with a pissed-off resident of this place, or any place. We're your friends and we're also responsible for this mess. And we won't let this little accident get us down," Lucy concluded her speech with a firm voice.

"Okay." I inhaled and we walked over to the little house. The porch was tiny, so I stepped up and knocked on the door, Harper and Lucy standing behind me. Having them there always helps me, although I like to believe I'm pretty damn strong on my own, too.

A white-haired, brittle and awfully old looking man opened the door. Damn. I hate telling old people bad news.

"Hello," I started diplomatically. His expression didn't change. Well, I wasn't about to let that get me down, damn it.

"I'm Monica, and these are my friends. I accidentally crashed into your boxes next to the shed when I was trying to park there. I'm very sorry. I've already taken a look at the damage, and don't think it's too severe. The fence is bent backwards and the boxes have been toppled, but other than that, everything is fine."

There. How was that for friendly, diplomatic, mature, stable and in-control? I'll be damned if I'm incapable of handling situations like this like an adult. I awaited the old guy's response patiently.

He was going on and on in a language I couldn't understand. Was this the Quileute I had read about online? Well, it made absolutely no sense to me. Should I interrupt him and tell him to speak damn English, please?

Probably not. Better to just let him keep talking – he didn't seem that happy. At least he wasn't yelling…? As a matter of fact, his voice was frail, but it was an angry kind of frail, if you can imagine that.

My clueless facial expression must have told him about my lack of language skills; he now spoke in English.

It was hard to understand, though, because he was sort of mumbling, and that combined with the frailness of his voice made understanding him so hard. I only caught a few phrases here and there, but they completely set me off.

Women…all of these problems…young things like this think they own the world…careless…ignorant…_arrogant_…so very typical…

I swear, I was ready to kill the guy. I was _pissed_, and very much so. I had come in peace, basically, and this _person_ was being _sexist_ about it. Sexism is something I'm very sensitive too, because my mom is in politics and she often talks about how it still exists even though everybody says "oh, we're over that", just like racism, which still happens, too.

And because I knew my friends, I knew they were getting _very_ angry behind me. This old sexist now had the wrath of three young women on his hands, and I'll be damned if we were just going to leave like he hadn't just completely insulted us.

I was the one to burst. "What. The. Hell." I nearly growled. The elderly man stopped his mumbling, surprised when he saw the anger in my eyes, and, I'm sure, in Lucy's and Harper's, too.

Lucy didn't give him a chance to compose himself. "We came here to _apologize_, do you hear me, and the way you are treating us now in inacceptable. We came here to _acknowledge_ the _damage_ that _accidentally_ ensued."

Harper picked up exactly where she left off. "Women connected to all of the problems? That is such a typical thing to say, and it is also very, very _sexist_. That sort of comment isn't okay anymore, anywhere in the USA. We think we own the world? We came here to apologize, damn it, and once again, the freaking crash was _accidental_." The more she spoke, the more riled up she was getting, but Lucy and I knew that she had her anger in control. She always did – never lashed out, always thought about consequences.

She went on. "_Careless? Ignorant?_ How many times do we have to repeat that it was an accident before you finally acknowledge that fact?"

"But that's not the real problem," I began my part. "The real problem is the sexism. We live in a free world here. Most people get angry when you crash into their stuff, but they don't break laws. Because that is a law. It is not okay to get sexist. All sorts of –isms should be from the past, and usually are. Or am I to assume you are a victim of racism?" I ranted.

Okay, maybe the final part was overkill. Maybe the entire trio-speech was overdoing it, but damn, we're not going to let things like that happen.

"What is going on here?" demanded a strong, commanding male voice from behind us. We all turned around and saw two VERY huge, muscled up and shirtless (also: shoeless) men standing behind us.

"Oh, fuck," muttered Lucy under her breath. I nearly had a heart attack when the smaller of the giants kind of smiled. At least it was a somewhat nice smile…?

Harper was looking at them like they were axe murderers. Hell, they might as well have been. She regained her composure after two seconds and switched to a relatively blank facial expression.

"And you would be…?" she asked, doing a great job hiding the anger I knew she still felt.

"Sam Uley," said the bigger giant. How wonderfully helpful *sarcasm*.

"Do you live here?" asked Lucy diplomatically. A glance at her posture revealed that she was still ticked off, though. What the hell, I was too.

"No."

"What can we do for you?" I asked, with an only slightly sarcastic undertone.

"What is wrong here?" It sounded like a command, not really like a question.

"I'm Lucy. These are my friends Harper and Monica," said Lucy in a controlled tone. "We accidentally crashed into the fenced-in, box-filled area right next to the shed when we were trying to park here."

I figured she was leaving the sexist-speech for me, so I continued. "Upon which we knocked here, of course. We told him about what happened. He stated a few things that can only be interpreted as sexist, which we refuse to accept."

End of speech. Time for the giant to answer some questions. Harper was best at prying information out of people, so she handled it. We all have our particular strong areas. Lucy is wonderful at mediating, I can argue well and Harper has a talent for getting information out of people. Hence all of the trio-speeches.

"You said you don't live here. I take it the…argument here drew your attention, and you came to see what we were up to. Your help is unnecessary, as you can see. However, before you go, I'd just like to know how _you _know…" she paused. What was the old guy's name anyway?

"I'm afraid I don't know your name," she said, turning to the said old man with a friendly smile on her face.

He was pretty much forced to answer. "Old Quil."

"Thank you. So, how do you know Mr. Old Quil?" asked Harper. When we did things like this in our trio-fashion, we seemed so mature, I always thought. Also, a little bit patronizing, but being patronizing can be fun.

The giant said something about them being somewhat related. We left then, without smiles but diplomatically. Lucy had also asked for directions to the cliff and beach, and so we drove there without further incident.

"They're really pretty," I said. "But the…events earlier today kind of wrecked my mood."

"I know. I just want to get out of here," said Harper.

"We could always come back sometime later. I mean, we have two weeks," I said.

"Yeah. So…since we're leaving now, why don't we go look at Port Angeles? We still have the whole day in front of us, I mean, it's not even noon yet," stated Lucy. "We could do a little bit of shopping…." She smiled, and so did we.

Damn La Push and its sexist, giant inhabitants. You won't ruin the day of The Trio.


	4. Awkward Situation Numero Uno

_**Disclaimer: Stephanie Meyer owns Twilight – Harper, Lucy and Monica are all mine, though.**_

_**Welcome back, guys! I'm kind of disappointed in you guys because barely anybody commented… (reviewed). That sucks, people. It sucks.**_

_**So to encourage you all to review, in this chapter IMPRINTING HAPPENS. Finally, finally, finally – but not all of the imprinting. Monica is still forever alone.**_

_**Enjoy.**_

Harper's POV

It was the day after the whole embarrassing La Push thing. God, I'm trying not to think about it, but still…that was awkward. I don't know what I'll do if I ever see that old guy anywhere again. Oh, damn. This is so typical for us: get into a crappy/embarrassing/bad situation at the first possibility.

Well, screw it. We did actually have a nice day after the car crash. The cliffs were really pretty (although I had a hard time appreciating them, out of obvious reasons), and then Lucy suggested going shopping, which was pretty much a stroke of genius. We all needed a little pick-me-up yesterday, and let's be honest, a new pair of shoes makes you feel all good inside.

At least that's what happened to me after I got these cute gray booties. I swear, they're awesome. Monica bought a new pair of lightwash jeans and a long necklace.

So we were pretty happy, with the shopping-rush and all that.

Lucy, the shopaholic-in-denial, bought herself an entire new outfit. A strapless, baby-doll like leopard print top we're all in love with **(link on profile**), these black leggings with rivets in a row up the side of both legs up to her knees and black pumps. And this pretty gold necklace.

Then we saw a drugstore, and Lucy was off again. We kind of held her back like we always do, but yeah… She's Lucy. It's her flaw. Personally, I think it's one of the best flaws you can have.

"Oh my God," she said under her breath, picking up a small bottle of perfume. "This is $3 cheaper than it is at home. And smell it! It's really good!" She spritzed some on her wrist and then held her wrist to our noses.

We obediently sniffed, cautiously at first, but then in really deep breaths. "Mmmm," I said, spraying the stuff on my own wrist.

"Damn, but it really does smell good!" exclaimed Monica.

"I know, right?" beamed Lucy and bam!, into the cart went the perfume.

When we were passing through the store, trying to find the cashiers, we passed the hair products. I caught sight of the Garnier shampoos. "Look," I said and pointed at the price. "It's cheaper than the same stuff at home, too."

"I wonder if _everything_ is a great deal here," mulled Monica, eyeing the John Frieda shelf. Monica is a secret lover of John Frieda, but thinks the products cost too much. At least in comparison with normal shampoos and conditioners.

I wondered briefly why Lucy wasn't saying anything, only to realize she wasn't standing next to me like I had thought she was. I stood on my tip-toes and tried to see over the shelves.

There! That was definitely Lucy's hair over there. I grabbed Monica's arm, startling her, and the two of us caught up with our friend.

She was standing in front of those bite-sized travel versions of everything they sold. Toothpaste, Q-tip containers, soap, lotion, yada, yada, yada. Somehow, the cart had filled up considerably since when we had last seen it. Along with the perfume, there was eyeshadow, two bottles of nail polish, calcium supplements, cotton pads…

Wait. Calcium supplements? I asked her why she had them, and her response was enthusiastic. "I don't drink that much milk, you know, so I can't possibly be getting all the calcium I should be."

I gave her a look, and she quickly relented. "The shopping cart looked so sad and empty," she said. "And besides, the calcium thing is true! I have a decent excuse!"

We all looked at each other and broke out into laughter. "Come on," said Monica after she'd recovered, "let's go."

We started moving towards the cashiers. "Hey, we're leaving a drugstore and you aren't protesting," I jokingly said to Lucy.

She put on her best innocent face. "Course not, Harper."

We all broke out in giggles again, but straightened up when the cashier began scanning Lucy's items. Magically, she still had the cash to pay for them all. I don't get it. Her parents aren't rich, her allowance isn't that huge, but she can afford constant rush. I tried to get her to tell me her secret one time, so I could learn too, but she said she didn't have one.

Obviously, that had been a lie. The girl had to do it somehow! Well, whatever. After Monica had paid for her cheaper-than-usual John Frieda conditioner, we left the store.

But that was yesterday. And this was a freaking new day, meaning new adventures, new people, and no being negative about yesterday's La Push events.

It also meant grocery shopping.

You know all about Cia's quirky Lean Cuisine addiction, so I'm sure you'll understand why we NEEDED to go buy some actual food. So we let Cia give us the directions to the grocery store, hopped in Monica's car and drove there.

The car ride took all of three minutes, that's how close it was. When we had left the house, it had already been raining, but when we arrived at the supermarket that tiny time span later, it was pouring. Honestly freaking _pouring._

I could never live in Forks. How do the people here do it? How do they survive? Sure, the green-ness of the town is nice and all, but couldn't it be dry? At least for the two weeks in which we're here? Please?

Oh, fuck this. We prepared ourselves, ran into the store, realized we had forgotten to get a cart, realized the carts were OUTSIDE, and therefore IN THE RAIN, and quickly decided we didn't need a shopping cart.

Only thing is, we did. Soon enough, I was carrying various dairy items and also pasta, bread and Oreos in my arms.

I love Oreos.

Monica was carrying chips, popcorn and cereal. She looked like she was going to drop something any second.

Since both Monica and I were so packed, it was silently agreed upon that Lucy would make the dash outside to get us a cart. She bravely did, and helped us unload all of the crap. "You're an angel," I said and gave her a smile.

"Anytime, Harper, anytime," she responded with a grin.

"Damn," said Monica in a quiet voice. Lucy and I both automatically looked over to her.

She noticed our concern. "Over there," she said and tilted her head to the left. We looked, and whadaya know, two freaking GIANTS arguing over flour.

It was undeniable. These were La Push giants – just like the two from yesterday. As if she was reading my mind, Monica asked, "Are they the guys from yesterday?"

"I hope not," I muttered under my breath angrily.

Right then one of the giants looks up from his flour and directly over to us. **(there's a link on my profile to a picture of each of the relevant wolves. I definitely suggest taking a look) **It was really creepy, because here we are discussing these guys and right then one looks over. And I mean, they were pretty much 30 feet over there, there's no way they could have heard us. So it's weird.

Lucy, who had been inspecting the shelves while listening to us talk, glanced backwards at the giants. And then she froze, still looking over there. Weird.

Then the second guy looked over to us, too. And it was just… Oh my God. The guy is staring at me and I'm pretty sure I'm also staring at him because… Oh, I don't know, but it was like there was something _pulling_ me to him, like a connection or spark or whatever, and I can't even describe it right…

But The Moment ended quickly, and then I remembered that I was in a supermarket buying food. Lucy was looking at the first guy and he was looking at her, and I'm not sure if she felt that same rush or spark as I did but it kind of looked that way.

"Guys…" started Monica, "what just happened between you and those two?" She sounded really confused and a little bit scared, too.

"That was… weird," I finally said, looking at Lucy, waiting for her description.

She just shrugged. "We were looking at each other and BAM! For one nanosecond all I could think of was that guy but then it was over and everything was normal. Maybe it's comparable to eye sex or something."

We all had to laugh at Lucy's explanation. I shot a stealthy glance over to the duo. They were talking to each other urgently, but it didn't seem like they were arguing over the flour like before. Feeling kind of awkward, I stopped watching them and followed Monica and Lucy through the store.

We were pretty much done, just picking up some pretzels, when the guy I had my little strange moment with showed up in front of me. He looked thrilled for some reason – don't ask me why. It was kind of creepy, actually.

He didn't say anything for a few seconds, just stood there in front of me all happy-looking.

"Hi," I finally said.

He looked even happier now. "Hi," he said back.

Well. It didn't look like he was going away anytime soon and I already felt like I had run out of conversation topics.

"I'm Paul," he said, smiling. The guy had a nice smile, you had to admit.

"You're from La Push, aren't you?" I asked, wondering where the hell Monica and Lucy had gone.

"Yeah. You're one of the girls who crashed into Old Quil's shed, right?"

Damn. Did everybody know about that?

"Yes."

He laughed a little. "Thought so."

I couldn't help myself. "How'd you know? Does gossip spread so quickly over there?" Okay, I admit, I may have sounded a little pissed off. Because I was, in fact, a little pissed off.

I think I must have sounded like I was ready to kill him for that tiny little comment, because he backtracked like crazy.

And this is the moment where I noticed how his tight t-shirt showed his muscles. I mean, okay, he's a huge guy, with the height and the muscle-y-ness and all that, but couldn't he have worn a larger shirt? For the sanity of the innocent female bystanders?

He drifted off slowly, probably realizing that I hadn't been listening. My bad. I turned my attention back to him – well, to his face and his words, but he wasn't talking anymore, so the whole thing was awkward.

Awkward is actually a wonderful way to describe that little meeting in the supermarket.

Then this one man (he looked maybe 50) came up behind me and since the aisle wasn't all too wide, he kind of bumped into me in that normal way you accidentally bump into people in supermarkets. "Oh, sorry," he said, and I told him it didn't really matter (standard protocol for such accidental-half-collisions) and I thought NOTHING MORE OF IT. Because that's NORMAL.

But then Paul (it was Paul, right?) starts looking all pissed off, which was … freaky. Yeah – freaky. Freaky is a good word, especially because he started GROWLING. He looked at the unsuspecting man, who was pretty far down the aisle by know, but Paul was still staring at his back like he was ready to kill him.

I'm not exaggerating. The look in his eyes – I swear he was ready to kill.

And it terrified the living hell out of me, so I used the opportunity to escape and go find my friends.

On second thought, it was kind of rude to just leave Paul back there.

Hopefully he had calmed down by now.

So I went and located Monica and Lucy, well, Monica first and then Lucy, who said that Embry (the other giant) had asked for her phone number and that she had given it to him.

"Good for you," Monica and I said to our friend.

Later that day we discovered we had forgotten the basil. We went to a different supermarket to buy it, though.


	5. Creepy Stalker Types

_**I'm really, really sorry for the lack of updates. I mean it. For some reason, I just haven't been able to write lately. But let's forget the excuses and move on to the story! Oh, by the way, it's the next day in my little story. Just so there's no confusion.**_

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight**_

_**If you want, maybe I'll write a companion piece for this chapter, because I really want you to see the events out of Embry's and Seth's eyes. Tell me in a review if that would interest you or not.**_

* * *

><p>Lucy's POV<p>

The doorbell rang at exactly 9:42 and 29 seconds.

I know because that damn doorbell woke me up from my delightfully peaceful sleep. And I, after mentally cussing out the idiot who had rung the doorbell, checked the alarm clock.

Then I checked out the beds next to me. In each one was a chilled out, sleeping girl. That I was envious of, because they still got their zzz's while I got to get up, throw on some halfway decent clothes and trudge downstairs.

The joy.

Mornings are not my strong point, I know.

The bastards downstairs rung the doorbell a second time, reminding me that perhaps it was time to answer. I really just wanted to flop back down on my bed, but I figured that since I was already awake I might as well go and deal with them.

I was wearing nothing but a bra and grey cropped sweatpants. Probably the wrong thing to open the door in, so I put on my ugly-as-hell black hoodie. I dashed to the bathroom and quickly splashed some water on my face. God, my skin was so puffy. And the hair was a mess.

Oh, screw it. Did I ever mention that I hate mornings?

I jumped down the stairs. _Whoever it is, he had better not be gone_, I thought as I headed over to door.

When I opened it, I was staring at two giants. Big, muscled-up, tan guys with short, black hair. One of them was the cute guy from the store yesterday.

"Hi," I said, wondering why these people were ringing our doorbell at 9 am.

"Hey," said Supermarket Guy. Embry.

Other Guy remained silent.

Embry was staring at me in a pretty obvious way. _Well, yeah, buddy, I know I look like crap_, I thought_. Leave me alone_.

"So what brings you here?" I asked, because they must be selling something or whatever, since they are evidently knocking on everybody's door. After all, these were pretty much strangers who didn't live close to us.

"I wanted to talk to you," said Embry.

Huh.

Suddenly, my brain was close to exploding._ He rang our doorbell because he wants to talk to me. Meaning, he came here specifically and isn't just knocking on every door on every street. He knows where I live. I didn't tell him that. Who told him that? This is really creepy. I just gave him my cell phone number! Why was he here? How did he know where I was staying? What was the other La Push Giant there for?_

_Oh my God. I'm going to get abducted. They're here to kidnap me and maybe my friends. Shit, shit, shit, this is scary. Beyond scary. I don't take stuff like this well. Where's Cia? Oh my God, oh my God, I don't know where Cia is! I need Harper, I need Monica, I need somebody who can think rationally and tell me what to do now that I've been confronted by freaky, strong, stalker dudes who are going to hurt me!_

"Lucy! Lu-cy!" yelled Embry urgently. He put his big hands on my shoulders.

_Oh my God. He's grabbing me, taking me, I'm being kidnapped by two impossibly strong guys and I can't do anything and oh my God I'm gonna die I'm gonna die I'm gonna die. I need help! I need to wake up Monica and Harper and Cia and – Cia is like CIA. Strange. Oh my God I'm gonna die and the CIA will investigate my disappearance and nobody will have seen anything and they'll get away and nobody will find me and I'm gonna die. And then oh my God they'll come for Harper and Monica, too, the other big La Push guys. Shit we're all gonna die! Help me, help me, I fucking need help!_

"Lucy!" Embry was shaking me now.

"Help," I cried weakly. "Monica. Harper. Cia. Help me, oh my God, help me." I was in panic, beyond all rationality. Embry was still holding on to my shoulders, I knew that much. And I knew he was saying something but for the life of me I didn't know what. I couldn't hear anything anymore. It was like I was in a haze – _oh my God they drugged me. They fucking drugged me before I could resist!_

Fresh waves of panic rolled over me. I could feel my brain pretty much shut down and I started getting hysterical. "Help me," I repeated over and over again. My hearing kind of came back. I caught a few segments of conversation, words here and there.

"Seth, we need to take her to Carlisle!" That was Embry's voice. _Oh m-my God, I'm being kidnapped. Who is Car – L – Aisle? The … boss, probably … holy shit, they're taking me to their boss. Okay, Lucy. Think. Be calm. Be rational. Think. You need to get away from them, but more than that, you need to stay in control of yourself. No hysteria. No more panic attacks._

"Lucy! Come on, Lucy!" urged Embry. _What the fuck do you want? _I thought. My kidnapper was talking to me like people always talked to the unconscious on TV. I was just waiting for the "Talk to me, Lucy!" now.

I became aware of the fact that Embry still hadn't let go of my shoulders. His hands were HOT. Seriously. The guy was probably running a fever. I didn't want a kidnapper with a fever.

I sensed I was getting irrational and tried to focus on my breathing. Inhale, heart-beat, heart-beat, heart-beat. Exhale, heart-beat, heart-beat, heartbeat.

Suddenly I noticed I had my eyes clenched firmly shut. A little afraid, I opened them. Embry's blurry face was the first thing I saw.

"Lucy! Are you okay? What happened to you? You just suddenly turned all white and started swaying and I was afraid you were going to fall over and-"

"Where's … the other … guy," I mumble, interrupting Embry. I desperately need to know where the other guy is, because I'm afraid of the answer. _He's already in the dark van they'll use to bring me to their Carl-Aisle_. Now Embry was being friendly and concerned, trying to lull me into a false sense of security. Well, it wouldn't work.

"Seth? He's going to get Carlisle. Honey, you're safe."

_Seth, _I thought, _my kidnappers are named Embry and Seth. They are from La Push, probably. They are both tall and very muscle-y. They have the same tattoo on their shoulder. They look like Native Americans, with the dark skin and the inky black hair. Their hair is cut short._

I was trying to remember everything about them so they could be identified later.

Suddenly, Embry picked me up. He was carrying me away! Nobody knew where I was! I didn't even know where he was taking me! I struggled in his strong grip.

"Sweetie, are you uncomfortable? Did you hurt yourself?" asked Embry in a freakishly loving way.

_He's a lunatic,_ I thought. _Emotionally unstable, imagines things. Like that I am his girlfriend and that somehow, by kidnapping me, he is protecting me. I need to act fast!_

I said the only thing I can come up with. "I need sugar."

"What, hon?"

"I need sugar," I repeated. "For energy, you know? There's a street with a few stores not five minutes away, and there's a bakery there. Take me there, Embry, please."

To my utter delight, he changed directions. "Hey, Lucy, that's a really good idea," he said. I was unbelievably relieved but try to not let it show. Only one or two minutes later, we reached the bakery. Time for the master plan.

"I'm not wearing shoes," I said. "I can't go in. Would you just go and get me a donut or something? I'll pay you back."

_Do it, do it, do it,_ I prayed.

"No, no," he said, and all I could think is _shit_. "Don't worry about it. They're kind of used to shoeless people around here. It's a long story, I'll tell you sometime.

_No you won't_, I thought. _Once I find my way out of this situation I will make sure I spend the rest of my life very far away from you, Embry._

He gently pulled me into the bakery. I bought a simple glazed donut, trying not to panic. The person who gave me my donut was, from the looks of it, also from La Push. I'm screwed.

But I'm screwed even worse if we leave the bakery and head to the Carl-Aisle person, whoever he was, so I need to keep us in here. "Let's sit down," I said, gesturing to the three empty stools they have standing here.

My brain suddenly came up with something brilliant. I offered Embry a piece of my sticky donut, which he ate. "Hey, Embry, you have something here," I said, vaguely gesturing to the side of my mouth. "They have bathrooms here, you know, you should go and check it out in the mirror."

It's true, they do have bathrooms. I saw the little sign when we came in, but it didn't really register with me. Now I'm so thankful it's there.

"Be back in a second," Embry said and got up. As soon as the bathroom door closed behind him, I got up and quickly left the bakery. Then I pretty much jogged into the closest store, which happened to be a clothing boutique. Good enough. I headed over to the cashier, who had little to do.

"Excuse me, may I use your phone? It's really, really urgent. An emergency," I said to the woman. Her name tag said Namira. It's a pretty name.

"Sure," she said in a bored tone and pushed the phone over.

Quickly, I dialed Cia's home phone number. Monica picked up.

"Hello?" she said.

"Monica!" I exclaimed. I heard her call Harper over.

"I'm putting the phone on loudspeaker," she said.

"Thank God it's you, Lucy," said Harper. "We were so worried!"

"You had the right to be," I said. "Look, can you pick me up from the little clothing store across from the bakery as soon as possible?"

"Sure," said Monica.

At the same time, Harper yelled, "What are you doing at the fucking clothing store? You didn't tell us, we were going crazy!"

"Harper, I'm sorry. I'll explain it all to you when you arrive. Just please come really soon, okay?"

"Of course," said Monica and we hung up. I milled around the store for about ten minutes before my friends burst in. Harper locked me into a hug right away.

The two pulled me out of the store and we started our way back home.

"Now tell us what happened," demanded Monica and I began with my little tale.

"This morning, the doorbell rang and I answered it. There were two of the La Push guys, one of them was Embry, the guy from the supermarket yesterday. He said he wanted to talk to me. In that instant, I realized he must have followed us somehow because I never told him where we were staying and I don't think anybody else told him that either. I got really, really scared, and suddenly he's got a grip on my shoulders and is telling the other guy to take me to somebody called Carl-Aisle and the only think I can think is that I was getting kidnapped. So I started panicking and got hysterical. Then the other guy left. I … I think Embry called him Seth. Yeah, Seth, and then he left, leaving Embry and me alone, and I was so, so scared. Then he suddenly picked me up and was taking me somewhere, and the only thing I could think was I'm gonna die. He was acting all crazy, like I was his girlfriend or something, and I think that he's a lunatic, I really do. All I wanted was to get away, so I managed to get him to take me to the bakery, and then somehow I managed to get here and then I called you guys and…"

I was crying at this point. I didn't even really notice when we made it back and Cia opened the door. I just kind of collapsed into Cia's arms, and then she got the whole story. Monica made me tea that I drank, and then Cia suggested I go back to sleep. I that Harper was the one to write down what happened. She made me sign it. I wasn't really sure why, but she reassured me it was for 'evidence', in case something ever happens. I told her she watches too many crime shows.

I spent the entire rest of the day in bed, only vaguely aware of what was going on around me. I knew that Cia disappeared off to somewhere in the afternoon. Harper and Monica brought me a microwave meal at around 3.

"Lean Cuisine?" I asked with a smile.

"Yup," was Harper's happy response.

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><p><em><strong>Be sure to review and tell me if you liked it. This chapter's plot doesn't really go along the general lines of what I was thinking, but I wrote this early in the morning when I couldn't sleep so blame it on that. If you like the idea of a companion piece, tell me!<strong>_


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